Birthday Surprise!
by IRuleEverything101
Summary: In which England is surprised, and it's America's B-day. There was something wrong, this fic didn't show up in the archives, so I had to delete it and re-post it! UKUS FemAmeri RussAmer if you squint, NOW WITH OMAKE! X3 enjoy


**Aki:This was suppose to be out yesterday the lateset, but I was out for most of the 4th and 5th, so it had to wait for the 6th. Hope you like it.**

* * *

England didn't know what to do. It was several hours after the last world meeting, and since it was summer, many of the nations headed straight to the bars. Because everyone knew that drinking in the summer was just great. Everything opens later, but hey! Everything stays open a hellava lot longer. But that wasn't his problem at the moment. His problem was staring right at him.

The problem, of course, was America, the bloody little chit.

The night started with him staring at her from across the bar the nations had rented out. No scratch that. AMERICA rented it out for all of them. And why, pray tell?

Because it was her stupid birthday.

Or according to her, her birthday weekend, since it fell on a Sunday this year, or some such nonsense like that. He hadn't really cared at that particular moment. But then at the end of the meeting, she announced that with the help of Finland, where the meeting was being held, she had rented out the most popular bar in his country. So they all migrated to A21 Cocktail Lounge. To add insult to injury, the drinking age throughout most of Europe **(his home included)** was somewhere between 16 and 18. Meaning she could get drunk off her ass without having to resort to tricks in order to get drinks from the bar, or try and bribe the other nations to get drinks for her.

This also meant that he had to keep an extra eye on her, to make sure she didn't do anything stupid. Or in her case, not let her do anything at all.

In the beginning, everything was fine. He watched her as she did tequila shots with Spain. He watched her down loggers and other such beers with Germany and Prussia. He watched her sip on wine with France. And he watched her sip on rum with Cuba, and for once the older and larger nation was acting civil towards her. But he looked away for one second-Nay, one millisecond! No even less than that! It was like….whatever was shorter than a millisecond; it didn't matter to him right now!

Because America wasn't in his sight any longer.

He looked all over the bar, in the men's room, outside, under tables, he asked Hungry to look in the women's room for him, and on the other side of the bar.

No America. Anywhere.

"Well," he said to himself, "It's not like she's my responsibility any longer."

That's what he told himself anyway. And no, he wasn't on the lookout for short blond hair with an annoying cowlick that didn't know how to stay down in the crowd. And he defiantly wasn't hoping to catch a silver glimpse of those ridiculously named glasses that were never off her face. At least, that's what he told himself, every time he would catch a glimpse of gold hair, only to see, say France. Or a pair of glasses only to look at Austria. It was maddening.

"I can't take this anymore." He said. Standing up, he made his way to the door. But not before having a run in with Russia.

"Ah, comrade England. Have you seen Amerika?" He asked with a slight slur. There was a bottle of Balkin* that only had about a fifth of liquid in it, and in the other was his pipe. England was content to try and sneak away from him, since he was drunk on some level. He giggled and said "We were playing and then, она была...она ездила куда*." That made England pause and turn back to the larger man.

"What? Playing what? And where is she now?" he asked looking up at him. Then he paled, before going red in the face. "W-why do you have Texas?"

Russia blinked and reached up to touch the glasses on top of his head. He giggled again, and said "Amerika said for me to hang on to them, потому что ... Я не помню почему, но она и сделала*." He informed the smaller nation. "And we played Russian Roulette. She was quite good, because…" there was a long silence before "Da, that's why." Was said. He started to walk away, no longer interested in England.

"W-whoa! Hold on a moment." England said grabbing onto his trench coat. But he quickly let go when he heard "Kol kol kol kol…"

"I'd like those glasses, AND to know where America is." He said in his most assertive voice.

Russia pouted, curling his hand around the glasses and said in his most pitiful voice "Но Америка мне их смотреть*."

"Er, well…she told me to, ah, to get them from you, and…give them to her!" he finished quickly. He looked at Russia, hoping to high heaven and hell that the inebriated man before him would believe the lie, and NOT crush him for lying in the first place.

"В самом деле*?" Russia asked and England nodded franticly. Russia slowly removed the glasses from the top of his head and handed them over to the smaller man. He was still pouting, looking very much like a child who had to share a favored toy.

England snatched them out of his hand with a hurried "Thank you, BYE!" while rushing out of the door.

"Shit." He swore as he started to make his way back to the hotel all of the nations were stationed at. He would check back at the hotel, then start to comb the streets surrounding the club, and make his way back to the hotel. That was the plan; for the rest of his night in Finland, he'd be searching for America. Bloody perfect, if you asked him.

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England finally got to his hotel room, and opened the door. He flicked on the light and was met with the sound of a voice yelling "SURPRIZE!" while little pieces of torn up newspaper were thrown in his face. He sputtered and looked around to see who threw the paper at him.

And of course it was the very person…nation…BEING that he was looking for.

So you can see his current predicament.

"What the bloody hell?" he began. But stopped when he saw what America was wearing.

Gone were her bomber jacket, white blouse, blue tie and matching blue pencil skirt from earlier.

Now it was a revealing dress from her own prohibition era. The dress reached to just above her knees and was a mix of reds, some as bright as the red on her flag, and others as dark as the red wine France favored. There was a matching cap of deep red on top of her head with an obnoxious black feather sticking straight up, and a long string of pearls curled around her neck three times. Her hands were adorned with white satin gloves that met at her elbows along with a black feather boa, and Dear Lord in heaven, her dress straps were falling off her shoulders.

His hands shot out to fix her outfit before he knew what he was doing. She smiled up at him, and he could clearly see the flush on her face from all of the alcohol she had consumed. He scowled at her and quickly removed his hands. He blamed the heat radiating from his face on his growing anger.

"Y-You bloody idjit! What are you doing here? In MY room, I might add!"

"Iggy~…" She sang trying to get his attention. But he ignored her.

"What were you thinking! Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot. You don't think!"

"Iggy, c'mon…" she tried again, getting a light grip on his shirt sleeve. But he brushed her off and started pacing.

"You've no idea how much trouble I went through looking for you, you…you…ERH!" he said finally.

America blinked and said "That was some Bronx cheer, bud." She huffed and tried to stomp her foot, but stumbled a bit before righting herself. When she got her bearings, she said "Now stop being a wet blanket, and come 'ere and gimmie a smack on the kisser!" she took a step towards him.

"Wha-" England asked as he took a step back from the girl.

"Ha~. You slay me." She gave him a sly smile, which England had to admire because of her intoxicated state at the moment. "Hey, check it Sheik. Red…" She motioned to her dress. "White…" She peeled the strap on her dress down low enough to show her pure white bra. "And blue~…" When she started to raise her dress, England had to stop her **(as much as he _REALLY_ didn't want to at the moment.)**

"You're obviously out of you ever loving mind right now, America, so I'm going to put a stop to this." He said. His hand already around her wrist, he dragged her to the door, opened it and shoved her out. With a slam, the door was shut and he placed his back on it. Heart thudding in his chest, he kept muttering to himself "It's the right thing to do. It's the gentlemanly thing to do. It was RIGHT, Damnit!"

"Hey, man, don't you look swanky." He heard her muffled voice. He stopped his mantra and pressed his ear to the door. Because he wasn't spying. He was merely curious, that was all.

"Ah, there you are Amerika. Я подумал ты пошел*." He heard Russia say.

_'What the hell? Did that wall of meat follow me here or something?'_ he thought as he tried to hear the conversation. He missed most of it, but he could hear bits of their voices.

"Hey, gimmie a sip of that giggle water." That he heard loud and clear.

_'Russia must still have that bloody bottle.'_

Said nation giggled. "Da, but you must do something first~."

"Yeah? Name your price, jack. I ain't got all night, and my dogs are howling sumthin' fierce in these mollies." England winced at the butchering of his language.

"Ah, just a kiss, to wish you a merry birthday."

"Ya wanna neck? If that's all, sure."

England opened the door to see America half a meter away from Russia. They were right in front of his door, so he was close enough to quickly reach out, grab her upper arm and yank her back into his room. The door was slammed and Russia's face, and he stood there not sure what to do. He heard some noises start to come from inside the room, so decided to move along as fast as he could.

The next day, as everyone was getting over their hangovers at the airport, a smug looking England stayed beside a flustered looking America until their separate flights were due to take off.

* * *

_**Aki: Well, there it is. **_

_**Notes: The bar is a real place in the capital of Finland, which I can't recall right now. And the Vodka(Balkin) mention is the strongest, cuz its like 176 proof. Also, Russian Roulette is a real drinking game, you just take shots as fast as possible to see who can get drunk first. And I looked on Wiki; in most European countries, the legal drinking age is 16. I'd like to add, in the UK, peope can drink as young as 5 (Yes, 5!) in private, and in Greece, Hungrary, France and Italy there isn't a set age to drink, but there is one to buy them. The things you learn when reaserching *The more you know~* LOL**_

_**Translation: **_

_**она была...она ездила куда- She went...she went somewhere...**_

_**потому что ... Я не помню почему, но она и сделала- Because...I do not remember why, but she did**_

_**Но Америка мне их смотреть- But she gave them to me. **_

_**В самом деле- Really? **_

_** Я подумал ты пошел- I looked for you. **_

_**R&R Everyone, it'll make me feel better about haveing this out *Looks at calender* Err, 2 days late. Also, 20's slang is just awesome~!**_

_**OMAKE: **_

**THE NEXT DAY...**

America picked up her cell, hit 4 and then the talk button. The phone rang for a moment and a tired voice said "Moshi moshi?"

"Sorry, did I wake you Japan?"

"Ah, don't worry America-chan, I had to wake up soon." he replied.

"Oh, that's cool. Anyway, I called to tell you that the dress worked!"

If possible the man on the other line perked up.

"Iie, it was no trouble. And the pictures I got were fine as payment."

America's head tilted to the side. "What pictures?" she asked with a slight frown.

"A-ano, I have to go America-chan. Sayonara!" that was followed by the dial tone.

America just stared at her phone and decided she didn't want to know.


End file.
